


And With The Rain Comes Peace

by phoenixquest



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Gen, Happy, Rain, Simple Pleasures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-15 07:12:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4597575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixquest/pseuds/phoenixquest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders loved the rain.</p><p>Snippets of Anders' life revolving around rain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And With The Rain Comes Peace

**Author's Note:**

> I can't get the idea out of my head that Anders would enjoy rain more than just about anything, because it was something impossible for him to feel while in the Circle. It feels like freedom to him. So this came out. I hope you enjoy it.

Anders loved the rain.

When he was a child, he always had to stay inside when it rained. His mother told him he would catch a cold if he went out in it. He listened to her, even if he wasn’t _happy_ about it.

Nonetheless, he had a special window he would sit by in their small house, his breath fogging up the panes of glass as he stared out at the rain. Sometimes it wasn’t much at all; a fine mist, at most. Other times it poured. He liked those times best. 

As soon as the rain stopped, though – then he’d run out the door. He’d splash in the puddles, stare at the raindrops still clinging to the flowers. Inhaling slowly, he would savor the rich scent of the air – earthy, clean, and crisp. It was like _magic_.

In the Circle, there was no rain. Oh, he knew it still _would_ rain, of course, but he never could _tell_. The windows that existed were high, and there weren’t very many of them. He couldn’t even _hear_ the rain against the windows.

There were more important things, of course; but he couldn’t deny he missed the rain.

The first time Anders escaped from the Templars, it was bright and sunny. He couldn’t really object; feeling the heat of the sun on his skin was a relief all on its own. Even just being outside, _running_ – he couldn’t have asked for better. They caught him before it could rain.

The second time, though – the second time he got away, he evaded them, and that very night it poured down rain. His favorite kind. And finally, _finally_ he got to feel the rain. It drenched him through completely, and he couldn’t have been happier.

The mage spread his arms wide, laughing as he twirled beneath the downpour, face upturned and eyes closed. He felt freer than he ever had, even before the Circle, just for a few minutes.

It was something he would think fondly on when he was inevitably caught again.

He told Karl about it, once. The two were lying on Karl’s bed, Anders in the room under the guise of studying. The younger mage was tucked into the arms of the older one, feeling much better about _everything_ – as he always did when Karl was around. He spoke animatedly of feeling the droplets hit his skin, of watching the rainstorms through his window when he was small. Karl smiled as Anders talked; it was such fun, he thought, to see the young mage so excited about something.

Karl spent weeks scouting the tower, unbeknownst to Anders. He asked around, even braved a conversation with a more sympathetic (and easily bribed) Templar. Finally, one day, he found it; a single spot, rather cramped but mostly accessible, where the outside world was truly visible.

He surprised the young mage with it one day, showing him just how to crawl through the rafters and climb around the beams. There was barely enough space for even one of them, but Anders was perfectly content to settle himself in Karl’s arms. The older mage wouldn’t have dreamed of protesting the lack of space. Especially not once he saw Anders’ serene smile, gazing out at the falling rain.

There were more escape attempts. Anders felt more rain, though it wasn’t often. It never became any less wonderful to him.

He was with the Templars again, captured once more. It had been inevitable, really. Walking with them, he couldn’t help wondering if he might just give up trying one day.

It began to rain on them, darkness falling as they walked. He’d made it quite a ways this time before they could catch up with him, and they had a bit of a journey to make.

Then the Darkspawn attacked; he certainly didn’t try very hard to protect his Templar guards from the beasts. They were slain – more easily than he’d really wanted, if he was honest with himself, considering they at least had armor and big, heavy swords to fight the creatures. He had little choice but to explode the room with a blast of fire; luckily, it took them all out. He stood there, feeling rather proud of himself for a moment, before someone new walked in.

The woman enlisted his help, and as she was certainly no Templar, he was rather keener to assist her than anyone else. They fought more Darkspawn, were joined by a few others, and finally the fighting stopped.

She surprised him when the new Templar had called for him to be handed over; he wasn’t sure about becoming a Gray Warden, but it had to be better than life in the damned Circle, didn’t it? The Templar fought, but Queen Anora overrode the woman. Anders was to join the Wardens.

Perhaps the rain brought him luck, he mused.

Time passed, and Anders eventually left the Wardens to end up in Kirkwall. He didn’t see much of the rain as a healer in Darktown; it didn’t seem to rain that often in the city anyway.

He was headed up Sundermount with Hawke, Varric, and Merrill one gray afternoon. A visit to the Dalish, mostly. Anders hadn’t paid a lot of attention when Hawke had asked him to come; he was itching to get out, to go and move and do something besides sitting in Darktown, so he’d readily agreed.

The mage could smell the rain in the air; it was going to come, sooner or later. He wondered if he might be able to stretch their visit long enough that he wouldn’t miss it.

Just before the group reached the Dalish camp, though, he got his wish. A sudden downpour came almost from nowhere, drenching them all within moments. Varric grumbled about it, taking Hawke’s proffered shield and holding it over his head. Hawke didn’t seem to mind one way or another; the warrior just kept trudging on. Merrill, however, stopped in her tracks, closing her eyes and turning her face up to let the rain fall on it. Anders – little though he got along with the elf sometimes – grinned.

And did the same.

Merrill laughed delightedly when she caught sight of him, feathered coat dripping wet and a huge smile on his face as the rain fell on him. Caught up in the thrill of the rainfall – though he could feel Justice’s bemusement – he took the little elf’s arm and whirled her around, laughing with her. They played and danced in the rain for Anders knew not how long – not long enough, to be sure – before Varric was calling back to them to hurry it up.

Reluctantly, the two mages hurried to catch up to their friends, though neither stopped enjoying themselves in the rainfall. It had slowed a little now; no longer a drenching downpour but a calm, summer rain. Anders saw Merrill’s head jerk to the side, and he followed her gaze, prepared for danger – but before he could even register what she was looking at, she’d jumped into a puddle right beside him, splashing him and beaming.

He laughed heartily, a sound he didn’t often make these days, and joined the game. The first to see the puddle would jump in it, trying to splash the other (Merrill got Anders more than the other way round, admittedly). Varric rolled his eyes at them, mumbling something about wishing for his warm fire at the Hanged Man. Hawke was inclined to let the two mages play, though, and simply continued up the mountain.

After that day, when it would rain, Merrill would be sure to come to the clinic. Anders wasn’t always able – or willing – to come out with her and enjoy it, but she always tried, whatever else was going on in their lives. She understood; it was one of the simple pleasures of nature, of freedom, of happiness. No one else seemed to share their love of the rain, but she would always understand.

Anders – through all those years in Kirkwall – could never quite articulate how much he appreciated it. 

Anders loved the rain.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments & kudos always make my life :D


End file.
